


With Your Heartbeat Next to Mine

by prettyboyporter



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Gift Giving, M/M, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24766768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyboyporter/pseuds/prettyboyporter
Summary: Steve smiled and walked Billy backwards until his calves hit the back of the bed. “Good,” he said while kissing Billy’s lips -- short, teasing kisses. His fingers started to unbutton Billy’s shirt. “Cause I’ve always wondered.”“Wondered what?” Billy asked as Steve tugged Billy’s shirt off his shoulders, then started working on Billy’s jeans.Steve unbuttoned the button and slowly lowered the zip. He pressed his hand flat against Billy’s crotch the entire time, palming Billy’s dick as he unzipped. “What you look like when you fall apart.”
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 54
Kudos: 293
Collections: harringrove for BLM





	With Your Heartbeat Next to Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImNeitherNor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImNeitherNor/gifts), [USSTrashBarge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/USSTrashBarge/gifts), [printboogie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/printboogie/gifts).



> For Nor, UssTrashBarge, and printboogie. Written for harringrove for BLM. 
> 
> ....the one where Billy gets lovingly railed <333

Billy checked his reflection in the small mirror in the cramped bathroom of his tiny apartment for what had to have been the twenty-third time. He drummed his fingers on the sink, turning his head back and forth to make sure his curls were _just so_. 

Steve was coming over for a movie night. It was a thing they’d started doing -- Billy moved out from Cherry Lane not long after being released from the hospital. Steve helped him move and unpack, brought movies and pizza, helped Billy cook dinner -- simple shit that both of them could figure out -- hot dogs and taco meat but goddamn if those simple little acts didn’t help Billy feel like a card-carrying adult. 

Their movie nights looked comical with two buddies jammed together on the only seating Billy had in his tight living room: a secondhand grandma loveseat, fraying with an offensive pattern of orange, yellow, and gold flowers. Billy was certain that Steve, coming from his well-appointed Loch Nora home, would turn his nose up at Billy’s digs, but Steve didn’t even bat an eyelash at the loveseat with its sunken springs, though, or at watching movies on Billy’s yard sale TV. 

Over those handful of nights, they shared cigarettes and stories of trauma over a six-pack of beer, memories of dark tunnels and floating pollen and of how it felt to be put in the passenger seat of your own mind. 

It felt good to talk to a buddy about it, one who understood. 

Doc Owens was _so_ proud after Billy had said _I talk to Steve Harrington, sometimes_ \-- he’d made sure to cuff Billy’s shoulder while Billy rolled his eyes. 

It certainly made the load feel lighter on Billy’s shoulders, and made his heart swoon for Steve all the more.

But those talks led to sitting closer on the loveseat -- cramped as it already was. During a movie, their pinkies touched and when Billy turned his head, Steve was looking at him, eyebrows furrowed a little and lips parted. Steve leaned in, and Billy met him halfway. 

Steve’s kisses were tender and soft -- like he was kissing Billy in the same tentative manner that he had approached Billy after Billy was released from the hospital, like a nighttime fog rolling in quietly and gently. Gentle touch of the lips, his nose brushing over Billy’s, breath fanning on Billy’s chin, feather soft.

He never pushed, either -- if Billy gave a little harder, if he teased an open-mouth kiss, Steve responded in kind. And after the third night of kissing in front of an unwatched TV screen, Billy finally felt bold enough to touch his tongue to Steve’s lips. 

He’d never done this, though. Not with a guy. He’d seen it, of course, in copies of a couple of mags stashed in his nightstand drawer -- images of men kissing, and imagined what it would feel like, how it might be different. Kissing Steve was _fantastic_ , but It hadn’t gone farther than kissing. The last time, Steve had tongue kissed Billy until Billy’s dick was hard in his jeans. Billy was dizzy with it -- it felt fucking fantastic, but that night, his anxiety kicked in, and he felt panicky about making the types of moves that his dick _desperately_ wanted him to make. 

Those were the kind of moves Billy had seen on the three VHS tapes stashed under the couch: mechanics on the back of a car, beach boys with shorts dangling from their ankles, down on their knees, sucking, moaning, fucking each other. 

More than once lying in bed, with the scent of Steve’s Polo still in his nose, he jammed his hand down his briefs and stroked himself, imaged it was him down on his knees for Steve, what it might be like to let his jaw stretch wide and what Steve might look like looking down at him with those giant brown eyes all blissed out. 

For the handful of girls he’d brought to his old bedroom, Billy had faked a performance that most certainly deserved some type of award -- but he never let them get into his jeans. _Not tonight baby. It’s all about you,_ was the line Billy had fed them while he removed their hands from his fly.

He didn’t want to live with the disappointment of it. So even though girls at Hawkins High would whisper to each other behind hands, peeking over folders, _he’s so good_ in the hallways when Billy walked past, none of them had _actually_ gotten a hand on his dick. 

He kept up his rep as a real ladies’ man back at school, but then he kept his secret stash of gay mags under his Penthouses and dreamed about what he actually wanted -- how badly he wanted to be kissed by a man. He fantasized about how badly he wanted to be _fucked_. 

And -- as Billy brushed his teeth for the second time in his apartment that night -- he thought tonight would likely be the night he would get it. Somehow, Billy just _knew_ that the moment he indicated he was ready, Steve would be willing to give it.

There was a knock at the door, and Billy threw it open to find Steve shifting his weight from one foot to the other, hands jammed in his pockets. “Hey,” Steve said. 

“Hey,” Billy replied. Nerves pricked up and down his skin. 

Steve bounced on his toes a couple times. “‘S cold out here. Can I, uh.” He pointed to Billy’s living room. 

“Oh! Jesus christ yeah. I’m a dumbass.” Billy stepped aside and let Steve enter. 

Steve smelled like fresh shampoo and Obsession, and his hair looked styled a little more carefully than usual. “Here, gotcha this,” Steve said as he pulled out from his pocket a little package wrapped in the comics section of the newspaper, and then a tornado of words flew out of Steve’s mouth. “I just. I don’t know, I was thinking about you, and I wanted to get you a gift or something. I kept saying to myself, like, if I were a metalhead what would I like, like something with a skull or a snake on it? I had no idea where to look and I couldn't find anything at Sam Goody and Robin was all _you need to get him something more meaningful than a t-shirt anyway, dingus, try harder_ , so. Uhm. I had this done? I thought it ended up looking kinda metal but I don't know, whatever, anyways, I hope you don’t think it’s lame. I hope you like it.”

It really was endearing how fast Steve was talking, how much his nerves showed in his little bounce he was doing. 

Billy ripped the newspaper open to find a simple black leather cuff bracelet, about two inches wide, with two button snaps. He laid it on top of his right wrist. “Not a bad gift. For being such a preppy fucker, you did good, Stevie,” Billy said, smiling. 

“It’s got -- here -- you should turn it over.” Steve did a flipping motion with his fingers. 

On the inside of the bracelet, the letters **B+S** , thick and black, appeared to have been burned into the raw leather. Billy blinked back the tears he felt welling up in his eyes. “Where did you get this?” 

“Oh, uhm. I was dropping off Lucas and Erica at their Uncle Jack’s leatherworking shop and wandered in. He mainly makes, like, saddles and farm gear but I was looking at these strips of leather hanging from the walls in his shop, and thought it might make a cool bracelet. I asked, and he said no problem.” 

Billy cocked an eyebrow. “Did he do the letters, too?” 

Steve hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. No questions asked. I came back when Lucas and Erica weren’t around. He just handed it to me and said, _I hope B likes it_.” 

Billy stretched it out and looked at it and he swallowed thickly. “B thinks it doesn’t suck.” 

Steve took the bracelet back and stepped closer to Billy, then took Billy’s right wrist and wrapped the bracelet around it. He leaned down to kiss Billy’s cheek. “Be mine,” he said softly. 

Billy nodded as Steve snapped the buttons closed. He felt his throat tighten, and Steve’s arms slid down to wrap around Billy. His heart felt like it was exploding. 

“Be my baby,” Steve said, his lips moving down to Billy’s jaw. He sounded breathy.

“I’ve always been your baby,” Billy said. A couple of tears spilled from the corners of his eyes. 

Steve moved in to kiss Billy’s lips, sloppy and wet with Billy’s tears mixing in between their lips, but Steve didn’t seem to care. Passion poured from his kiss -- his hands came up to cradle Billy’s face. “I’m yours too. All yours,” Steve said, and Billy wondered what he’d done to deserve this, this handsome brave boy kissing him so desperately in his living room. 

Billy pressed tightly against Steve and let his hands run up Steve’s chest, up over his shoulders, and Steve tightened his arms around Billy’s back, hands flat, and then moved down, down to cup the cheeks of Billy’s ass. 

Billy broke the kiss and inhaled sharply. 

Steve stopped. “Is -- is this okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Billy replied and was surprised to hear how _wrecked_ his voice already sounded. “God yeah.” 

Steve pressed his lips to Billy’s again and squeezed Billy’s ass once before using his grip to pull Billy flush against his hips. 

Billy pressed his forehead to Steve’s, and Steve’s face was so close that it went a little blurry, so he tried looking at Steve’s eyebrow and his eyelashes -- anything to stave off coming in his pants like a fourteen year old because his erection was trapped against Steve’s hip. 

Then he felt the hard line of Steve’s dick pressed against him, and Steve started to grind against him. God, the thought of Steve _hard_ for Billy, rubbing up on him, fingers squeezing the curve of Billy’s ass as he started to ride Billy’s thigh -- all of it just seemed like so much. 

Steve leaned in to claim Billy’s lips again, kissing him deeply, tongue sloppy alongside Billy’s. He pulled back to lick and kiss along Billy’s lower lip and chin. Billy whimpered, a high and whiny sound, but honestly right now he couldn’t fucking care less. 

He opened his eyes to see tufts of brown hair and those three little moles on Steve’s cheek, and a bit of stubble along his jaw as he sucked and kissed Billy’s neck. He looked so fucking _good_ like this that some thought, somewhere in the back of his brain, reminded him that he could see more of Steve. 

“Steve,” Billy said. “Baby. Can we.” 

When Steve pulled back his lips were swollen and pink and his pupils were blown wide. Billy wished he had a Polaroid on hand. “Sorry,” Steve said and started to pull back. “We can stop. I can stop,” he said as he took a step back. The loss of the pressure and the heat of Steve’s body came as a shock. 

“Fuck, no, I don’t wanna stop, jesus. I wanna just. Can we move this to my room?” Billy said, and picked up Steve’s wrist and started walking back to the bedroom. 

Steve smiled a big, dumb, goofy grin and toed off his tennis shoes as they walked back. 

Billy managed to tug Steve in for a kiss and suddenly he felt overwhelmed about everything happening -- about finally being with a guy, about falling for a guy and the feeling being mutual, and about that guy being stupidly fucking gorgeous. Steve Harrington wanted to be with _Billy_ and he felt full with it, like a balloon being filled with water. He had no idea what to do with all of that so he pulled back on the kiss to bite Steve’s lower lip. He immediately felt like a cat nipping at its person harmlessly. 

Steve hummed, though, and said, “Feisty!” when Billy released his lip. 

Really, the trip was only about four steps down the world’s shortest hallway and the door was open to Billy’s room. The light was off and Steve reached for the switch, but hesitated. “On or off?” 

Billy wished that he could erase all of the ugly, gnarled scarring on his own body but his intense desire to see Steve flooded out those thoughts. “On.”

Steve smiled and walked Billy backwards until his calves hit the back of the bed. “Good,” he said while kissing Billy’s lips -- short, teasing kisses. His fingers started to unbutton Billy’s shirt. “Cause I’ve always wondered.”

“Wondered what?” Billy asked as Steve tugged Billy’s shirt off his shoulders, then started working on Billy’s jeans. 

Steve unbuttoned the button and slowly lowered the zip. He pressed his hand flat against Billy’s crotch the entire time, palming Billy’s dick as he unzipped. “What you look like when you fall apart.” 

Billy inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. He felt a flood of emotion wash over him, and he shoved down the part of him that felt entirely self-conscious of what recovery had done to his body because _Steve wanted to see him fall apart_. 

Steve pushed Billy’s jeans down, and Billy kicked them the rest of the way off, standing now in just his briefs and socks. 

Nerves fluttered through Billy’s abdomen. Steve kissed down Billy’s neck, let his lips rasp over the stubble. He stopped, then, and said, “put your arms around me.” 

Billy did as Steve asked, didn’t think about it, but Steve gave a little shit-eating grin before tackling Billy down to the bed and landing on top of him. 

“Harrington, Jesus Christ,” Billy laughed. 

“Suddenly I’m Harrington now? What happened to baby?” Steve laughed as he sat back and tugged off Billy’s socks one at a time. 

“My _baby_ wouldn’t screw up his face like that at my socks.” 

Steve flung them over his shoulder and picked up Billy’s foot, sniffing in exaggeration. “Ugh. When was the last time you washed these things?” 

Billy wiggled his toes. “An hour before you got here.” 

Steve looked up, then started to crawl up Billy’s body. Somehow, Billy had forgotten that he was nervous but now, with Steve on him, the nerves returned. “Yeah? You cleaned up for me?” 

“Mm hmm.” Billy said as Steve settled between his legs and lined his hips up with Billy’s. 

Steve gave a thrust and Billy wrapped his legs around Steve’s lower back. He kissed Billy’s jaw. “Yeah? You wash up good for me?” 

Billy went breathless as Steve started grinding against him. 

Steve moved down Billy’s body and kissed, his hand touching every patch of skin that he kissed as me moved down, lips on Billy’s chest scars and then licked his left nipple. 

It felt like a direct line to Billy’s dick when Steve licked the pebbled flesh, then bit it gently. Steve shifted to the side and laid his hand over the white fabric of Billy’s underwear. 

Steve licked and sucked Billy’s left nipple as if he’d never wanted something so badly in his entire life, plush lips wrapped around it as his palm rested on Billy’s dick, not moving, just applying infuriating pressure. 

“Steve,” Billy hissed. His dick twitched insistently against Steve’s hand.

The only response Billy got was Steve moving over to Billy’s right nipple and giving a long, slow lick over it. 

Billy was certain he would die before all of this was over. He tried pumping his hips to get more friction against Steve’s hand, but that only led to Steve _removing his hand_ , so he stopped.

Steve seemed to want to ensure that he paid just as much attention to one nipple as the other, laving it with his tongue, sucking, returning his hand to Billy’s dick and teasing his fingertips along his length as he worked Billy’s nipple. 

Then he moved down. He kissed Billy’s abdomen and licked across different scars -- some long, some thick, some little -- but it seemed like he wanted to _taste_ them, and fuck Billy never found his scars to be anything but hideous until Steve Harrington was running his tongue along them, making little noises and he kissed the scarred skin. 

Steve started tugging down Billy’s underwear. He sat back long enough to slide them off and throw them to the floor. 

Nervous excitement wound through Billy as Steve settled between his legs again, pressed kisses to his inner thighs, moving so close, so close, and then he started nosing Billy’s balls, kissing them, giving each one a long lick. He sucked each one into his mouth before making his way up the shaft of Billy’s dick and finally, finally, took the head into his mouth. 

The entire world fell away as the only thing Billy could focus on was the velvet pressure of Steve’s mouth sucking up and down his dick and his fingers gently caressing his balls. 

He closed his eyes against the sight of it -- behind his eyelids were flashes of color as Steve hummed around Billy’s dick, sucking, gentle caress of his tongue on the shaft. 

Just as soon as he thought this might be the best thing he’d felt in his entire life, the pressure was gone, and Steve shifted back a bit. “Scoot up a bit and turn over, baby,” he said, running his hand over Billy’s thigh.

He felt Steve’s hands sliding up the backs of his thighs then over his asscheecks, squeezing them before spreading them apart. And then there was Steve’s tongue, warm and wet, licking at his hole. “Fuck,” Billy hissed between his teeth. 

He clutched the blankets and Steve lapped over and over, his breath hot between Billy’s legs. He could feel Steve’s stubble against his asscheeks as Steve started to work his tongue in, fucking Billy with it. 

Billy looked back over his shoulder. Steve’s eyes were closed as he licked, but then he opened them and held Billy’s gaze as he alternated between licking flat against Billy’s hole and sliding in over and over. 

“Steve,” Billy moaned. He was fairly certain it was enough to wake the old lady who lived in the apartment next door. 

Steve lifted his head up and wiped the spit from his chin. “Did you like that sweetheart?” 

“Fuck yes,” Billy said. 

“You want more?” 

“Fuck yes,” he repeated, and that was when he noticed that the only article of clothing that Steve had removed was his shoes when he first walked in the door. 

Steve huffed a laugh as Billy scrambled back and went in for a kiss, stopping only to tug Steve’s sweatshirt over his head and fumble with the zip of his jeans. Finally then came down though and Steve seemed to want them off as fast as Billy did. He pulled back from Billy’s kiss to shove them off along with his briefs, retrieving a little bottle from his jeans pocket before dumping them to the floor. 

Billy plucked the lube from Steve’s hand and regarded Steve’s very large and very impressive erection pointing at him. Finally, the moment had arrived, and Billy kind of wished he would be getting a medal or something. It was King Steve’s dick, after all. 

He coated his hand liberally and stroked it over Steve’s length, so hard and heavy in his hand, over and over, relishing the slick slide before Steve held Billy’s wrist still and said, “you ready?”

Billy nodded and turned back around, but Steve laid a hand on his hip. “Why don’t you, uhm. Lie on your back? Kinda want to see your face.” 

“So soft,” Billy teased as he lay back. 

Steve grabbed a pillow and slid it under Billy’s hips. “You caught me, Bills. I’m soft for you.” 

“Mmm, not all of you is soft,” Billy said, as he could feel the hard length of Steve’s dick poking his thigh. 

Steve dribbled lube over Billy’s entrance and pressed in a finger a bit -- it felt a little uncomfortable, but not horrible. But when Steve added the second finger, Billy thought he was seeing stars. “Baby,” he breathed, shoving down on Steve’s fingers, trying to get more. “Fuck me. Please.” 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Steve hissed. He pulled out his fingers and after a moment, Billy felt the head of Steve’s dick sliding in. “You ask me like that again, Billy, I’ll give you the fucking _world_.” 

Steve slid in slowly in a continuous motion until he was fully seated, and he paused to lean down and kiss Billy’s lips. “This okay?” 

Billy kissed Steve again. “Get a move on, pretty boy, ain’t got all night,” he said with a smile. 

Steve grinned and started thrusting in earnest. Billy thought it was both too much and not enough, ran his hand up over Steve’s flexing arm, felt so _full_ with Steve’s dick, and when it hit his prostate he shouted so loudly that Steve stopped out of concern until Billy shouted again, “don’t you dare fucking stop!” 

Neither lasted long, not with both of them so charged. Steve got his hand on Billy’s dick and stroked a few times and he fucked Billy, and that was it, Billy shot all over Steve’s hand and his own belly and chest. 

Steve said _fuck_ about eight times in a row before he stilled his hips and came, holding Billy close as he huffed and shuddered. 

The entire world seemed to slow down -- Billy could hear the heat blowing from the register, could hear two dogs barking at each other somewhere off in the distance, could smell the cologne on Steve’s skin still as they both huffed and bounced back, somehow finding the energy to shift and move so that Steve spooned Billy’s back. 

Everything wound down slower and slower until they both fell into a sated doze. 

Billy woke with a sharp inhale some time later. Steve gave a sleepy, “mm?” behind him, and they made their way to the shower where Steve they made out lazily and took turns washing each other. 

They didn’t fall asleep until the wee hours, Steve fucking Billy one more time as they lay on their sides. In Steve’s arms, the last thing Billy saw out the window was the sky breaking orange and yellow on the horizon as he drifted off with his cheek nuzzled against Steve’s chest hair, and the leather cuff on his wrist.

**Author's Note:**

> prettyboyporter on tumblr


End file.
